Proud to be a nation of cry babies! We cried when they won. We cried when they didn't. Have the Olympics finally killed off the British stiff upper lip?

The end of an era? Many Brits failed to hold back tears during an emotional Olympic Games

By rights, we should have cried at the Jubilee celebrations — 60 glorious years, after all. But it was too cold, too wet and that inane BBC coverage killed off any possible lump-in-the-throat moments, like the RAF flypast.

We nearly succumbed when Andy Murray wept on Centre Court after losing the Wimbledon final to Roger Federer, but just about managed to hold it together.

So, by the time the Olympics opening ceremony came around, there was a high degree of pent-up emotion. Mix that with our rediscovered national pride and colour it with not a little anxiety about whether we could pull the whole thing off, and you’re left with a tinderbox of emotion that set the traditional British stiff upper lip quivering like blancmange.

All it took were some kids in pyjamas singing their hearts out to God Save The Queen and . . . you could almost hear the collective intake of breath from millions of Brits, followed by the plink, plink of salty tears unashamedly splashing into glasses of wine across the land. Gulp!

We had a few days’ grace to put back on that brave face we Brits always hide behind, before the marvellous female rowers powered across the finish line to win our first gold medal.

You didn’t need to know anything about rowing to feel the emotion as Heather Stanning collapsed on Helen Glover after they crossed the line first in the women’s pair at Eton Dorney.

One look at Helen’s tears as they collected their medals and the rest of the country — gathered around our TV and computer screens — were off.

World-class competitors in our new national sport of Crying, we unashamedly wept when Brits won. And when they didn’t. Our medal winners cried on the podium and we didn’t think they were soft or weak.

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We wept along with them in solidarity. And we wept for their heroic and self-sacrificing families who had supported them.

I don’t know about you, but when Tom Daley climbed the steps for his final dive in the men’s 10m platform event I was bawling my eyes out — both for the lone figure in his tiny trunks and for his dad who didn’t live to see his son’s proud moment. And for his mum who was there.

Emotional: Andy Murray was in tears after losing the Wimbledon final, left, and girlfriend Kim Sears felt his pain

By the time of the closing ceremony our traditional emotional constipation was a thing of the past and we were letting it all hang out. At least, I was. And everyone I know. If you weren’t then you can’t have got the subliminal memo that went around in 1997, after Princess Diana died, declaring that it was fine for everyone — male, female, grown-up, or child — to cry in public at long last.

Overnight the British, who Charles Darwin noted ‘rarely cry except under the pressure of acutest grief’, let it all hand out, emotionally speaking. We became more like our American cousins, who have never been known for their reserve.

So perhaps we’ve always had it in us — and apparently that’s not self-indulgent but positively healthy. As the old proverb says: ‘What soap is for the body, tears are for the soul.’

Jumping for joy: The tennis player was the champ at the Olympics on an occasion that again tugged on the nation's heartstrings

Tests show that crying relieves stress, lowers blood pressure and some studies claim it increases the touchy-feely hormone oxytocin, making everyone who cries nicer to be around.

Crying is a natural human reaction — especially, according to received wisdom, for women. We have always been allowed to shed a few tears, on condition they are hormonally based.

The biological imperative that triggers nurturing in new mothers has the known side-effect of ensuring that every pregnant woman will, at some point in her nine months, become undone by a picture of a kitten on a calendar.

'Even those of us who don't cry all that
often have experienced the healing power of tears'

Tears are regarded as a very good thing by the psychology profession. It could be argued that a large part of psychotherapy is about allowing grown-ups to cry in return for money in a socially approved setting. With our new-found passion for weeping, maybe we are all becoming much more emotionally healthy? And at no cost.

I, for one, enjoy a good cry. My crying gets done at home, especially if I am tired or annoyed because my husband has stacked the dishwasher wrongly (or some other heinous crime).

But more often, it’s a planned treat — I schedule a deliciously weepy afternoon to myself, with a sob-inducing DVD (Terms Of Endearment or Toy Story 3).

Even those of us who don’t cry all that often have experienced the healing power of tears and that wonderful sense of calm when the storm has passed.

The only place I won’t cry is at work. I went to a strict convent school where, along with all the other girls, I agreed to ‘never let a nun see you cry — because then she’ll know she’s won’. It was the female equivalent of boys’ schools where not crying after your head has been pushed down the toilet has always been part of the great British tradition.

There was a sensation when newly appointed president and CEO of Yahoo!, Marissa Mayer, revealed that she thinks it’s acceptable to cry at work. This comment caused even more of a reaction than the fact she landed the job while heavily pregnant. As women progress further in the workplace, tears have become the final frontier.

I, for one, welcome the fact that women — and men — without my educational hang-ups are getting the go-ahead to sob at work, especially since the alternative of shouting and banging the desk has always been much more upsetting for the onlooker.

'Many see tears as a weakness, something we are supposed to give up as we grow, along with our blankets and milk teeth'

Others, of course, disagree. Many see
tears as a weakness, something we are supposed to give up as we grow,
along with our blankets and milk teeth.

Deborah,
Duchess of Devonshire, at 90 the last-surviving of the Mitford sisters,
is on record as deploring the passing of traditional British reserve —
noting that her generation, who after all lived through two world wars,
‘weren’t all sloppy sentimental’.

But
these days the old-school attitudes of the Duchess are in the minority
and the few remaining dry eyes in England won’t remain so for long. The
Paralympic Games are on the horizon and even if you haven’t yet shed a
tear yet, prepare to do so.

If, like me, your heart leapt when Oscar Pistorious, known as the Blade Runner, became the first Paralympian to compete in the able-bodied Games, then that was just a glimpse of the tear-jerking heroism we can expect for two weeks from August 29.

Opened the floodgates: Helen Glover and Heather Stanning set us all off crying when they won Team GB's first gold medal of London 2012

Smart investors are probably buying shares in Kleenex tissues and waterproof mascara as we speak — we may even be able to sob our way out of this recession.

That’s because the standard of competition will be phenomenally high. Look out for Lee Pearson, a dressage rider who suffers from a condition called arthrogryposis.

On the ground he needs crutches or a wheelchair to get about — but on horseback he is good enough to compete against able-bodied team dressage gold medallist Carl Hester.

Above all, keep the tissues handy for Martine Wright in the volleyball. Seven years ago, she went out to celebrate the news that London was to host the 2012 Games. The following morning she lost both her legs in the 7/7 bombings. But she has defied the odds to represent Great Britain in the sitting volleyball team.

If she and her colleagues get a medal we’ll be crying in celebration of her courage and determination and for the hope rising from the ashes of terrorist atrocity. All the freedoms we have enjoyed are being joined by a newly minted one — to show emotion publicly and unashamedly.

Darwin would be proud that after 150 years, we’ve learnt how to do it at last.